growled, "Say, for goodness' sake, Shara, don't holler and carry on like that! Somebody might hear!"
She sprang up. "Oh, you fool! You fool!"
She fled from him, along the sands, through the rays of the revolving cross, into the shadow. He angrily rubbed his back against the sand dune and grumbled:
"Damn these women! All alike, even Shary; always getting temperamental on you about nothing at all! Still, I did kind of go off half cocked, considering she was just beginning to get the idea of letting me boss the show. Oh, hell, I'll jolly her out of it!"
He took off his shoes, shook the sand out of them, and rubbed the sole of one stocking foot slowly, agreeably, for he was conceiving a thought.
If Sharon was going to pull stuff like that on him, he ought to teach her a lesson.
Choir practise was over. Why not go back to the house and see what Lily Anderson was doing?
There was a nice kid, and she admired him—she'd never dare bawl him out.
He tiptoed to Lily's virgin door and tapped lightly.
"Yes?"
He dared not speak—Sharon's door, in the bulky old house they had taken in Clontar, was almost opposite. He tapped again, and when Lily came to the door, in a kimono, he whispered, "Shhh! Everybody asleep. May I come in just a second? Something important to ask you."
Lily was wondering, but obviously she felt a pallid excitement as he followed her into the room, with its violet-broidered doilies.
"Lily, I've been worrying. Do you think Adelbert ought to have the choir start with 'A Mighty Fortress Is Our God' tomorrow, or something a little snappier—get the crowd and then shoot in something impressive."
"Honest, Mr. Gantry, I don't believe they could change the program now."
"Oh, well, it doesn't matter. Sit down and tell me how the choir practise went tonight. Bet it went swell, with you pounding the box!"
